


A Different Kind of Game

by mrs_squirrel_chester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Consensual Sex, Dom!Sam, Dom!Sam nsfw, Dom!Sam one shot, Dom!Sam smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Female Reader NSFW, Female Reader SMUT, Female Reader one shot, NSFW, One Shot, Sam Winchester / Female Reader - Freeform, Sam Winchester nsfw, Smut, sam winchester one shot, sam winchester smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-13
Updated: 2015-06-13
Packaged: 2018-04-04 05:28:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4126930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_squirrel_chester/pseuds/mrs_squirrel_chester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Female reader hustles Sam in a game of pool. Rated M for explicit sex and language. (Sam Winchester / Female Reader)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Kind of Game

The denim skirt was almost too short, barely covering the curve of your ass as it met your thigh. The black tank top dipped low enough that when you bent over the pool table to take a shot, the guy you were hustling could see the leopard print push-up bra. Your hair was pinned to the top of your head, showing off the curve of your neck and the tattoo that spread from below your hairline, to the top of your shoulders.

"6 ball, corner pocket." It wasn't a complicated shot by any means, but the still unnamed stranger happened to be standing behind that very pocket. You lined up your shot, looked at him through your lashes, and struck the cue ball. You licked your bottom lip, purposefully pulling it between your teeth when the ball sank into the pocket.

He shifted on his feet, pool stick held firmly in his hands, and dropped his head in a courteous nod.

Blue chalk colored your fingertips as you worked the small block against the tip of your cue stick. You eyed the table and walked along the side, making sure your hips swayed more than normal.

"1 ball, banked off the far end, side pocket." Now this shot was a little tricky. There was a gathering of both striped and solid balls on the far end you had just boasted you could bank a shot off of. Also, the 1 ball seemed to have a partner, and if you hit both of them in, there was a chance you could lose the small lead you've gained.

Feeling his heavy gaze drag over your curves, you took your time figuring out exactly how you were going to nail this shot. You took a long pull from the bottle of beer his money paid for before your decision was made. Rather than stand directly behind the cue ball, you stood off to the side so you could get some nice spin on the ball. This could either work in your favor or make you look like a complete fool.

You bent over, knowing everyone behind you could see that you were wearing a matching set of lingerie, and slid the stick between your fingers a few times before finally sending the cue ball spinning down the table. It narrowly missed the gathering of balls, bounced off the end, and began to slow its pace. It tapped against the striped ball just enough to give yours a nudge, sending it into the side pocket. You weren't sure the shot was going to work, so you when it did, you gave an excited shriek. Even though he was losing, a smirk played with his lips as you gave a small jump.

Another round of beers was brought by a waitress that failed to gain your opponent's attention. He stood tall next to you, blue and white plaid shirt brushing against your bare shoulder. He dipped his head so you could hear him over the crowd and jukebox, "I don't believe I caught your name earlier."

Brown shaggy hair, hazel eyes, cheekbones that would make anyone jealous, and deep dimples made your mouth go dry. You recovered quickly, giving a half-hearted shrug. "That's cuz I didn't give it. 3 ball, far corner." He gave a low throated chuckle as you spun away, and took aim, easily sinking the shot.

The jukebox quieted for a heartbeat before filling the small bar with a guitar riff you felt in the pit of your stomach. Joan Jett's cigarette fueled voice poured from the speakers, and you couldn't help but give your cue stick a strum as you worked your way to the other side of the table. Even your opponent began singing along. I Love Rock & Roll was always a crowd pleaser.

The next shot you missed only because someone grabbed your ass, and that someone was not the large man you were trying to hustle. You shoved him hard, sending him into an empty pool table. "Keep your goddamn hands to yourself, Johnny!"

"Awwww, come on (Y/N), it's all in good fun!" He stumbled away from the table, his beer slopping onto the floor.

"You're drunk."

"Course I am. It's a bar, innit?" Johnny stood in front of you, shuffling his feet because his center of gravity was way off.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed his beer. "Call a cab and go home to your wife."

Johnny moved to grab your shoulder as you turned away, but your opponent swatted his hand out of the way. "You heard what the lady said." His hands were balled into fists, prepared for a fight.

"Lady? I don't know who you're talking 'bout, pal. All I see is a slut that's good at pool."

His voice dropped to a growl, "you better leave of your own volition or you're leaving on a stretcher."

The men stared at each other for half a minute before Johnny backed down with a huff, mumbling as he went.

"I could have handled him."

"You're welcome."

You rolled your eyes as you emptied the glass you stole from your drunk friend. "Your turn."

"I call mulligan for you."

Giving a shake of your head, you leaned against a beam, tapping your foot to the music. "Nope. I missed my shot. Now go."

He didn't argue any further. Instead, he shrugged out of his shirt before lining up his next shots and sinking every single one, giving you a very nice view of his back. He was wearing a dark blue t-shirt that stretched over the expanse of his shoulders, stretching it further every time he sent the cue ball down the table. Dark wash jeans hung low on his hips, revealing the waist band of his boxer briefs when he bent over, or at least you assumed they were boxer briefs. You could see the stitching of red lettering, but just when you thought you might see more, he stood up, having sunk the second to the last striped ball.

Two striped balls sat against one end of the table. Should have been an easy shot, right? It probably would have been if three solids weren't in the way. He chalked the end of his stick, circling the table as you did the same, moving in the opposite direction. His brow furrowed, wrinkling a patch of skin in the middle of his forehead. He drank the rest of his beer before leaning over the table, one hand spread wide on the green felt, while the other held the stick loosely. His eyes darted back and forth between the cue ball and the cluster at the other end. One shoulder sagged slightly as he seemed to realize he might not win the game.

"Forfeit?"

His eyes darted to your hand as you drummed your fingers next to the wad of cash. He scoffed before taking aim, sliding the stick between his thumb and forefinger before propelling the ball down the table. The balls flew apart with an echoing crack. Even though the balls shot in every direction, none of them sunk into a pocket.

"That's one way to do it."

He crossed his arms and leaned back against the same beam you had been not too long ago. "Show me what you got."

It almost seemed too easy. Two balls were dangerously close to falling in the far corner, so those were knocked in first, followed by a third banked off the side bumper before careening into the pocket across from it. One more in the corner, and another in the opposite corner. All that remained was the 8 ball and two stripes.

"What do you say, double or nothing?" You were feeling pretty confident with your upcoming shot. The black ball sat precariously close to the edge.

He pulled cash from his back pocket and slapped it onto the pool table.

Your cash fell next to his, and you drank the rest of your beer before lining up the impossibly easy shot. You bent over the table, focused on the way the pool cue felt in your hands, and how hard you needed to hit the ball. Just when you took your shot, a large and heavy hand grabbed your ass. The cue ball careened out of control, as did your temper.

You spun around and pushed him in the chest. "What the FUCK was that?"

Even though you pushed him, he didn't budge. He towered over you, bent slightly at the waist. "I couldn't help myself."

Heat flared in the pit of your stomach, spreading slowly until it built to a dull ache. Your hand was still on his chest, his very solid chest, and it was practically heaving beneath your touch. Suddenly, it felt as if everything around you faded away. He licked his bottom lip and you found that you wanted to do the very same, after biting it, of course.

As if reading your mind, he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you against him, covering your mouth with his. You did exactly what you wanted and bit his bottom lip. His chest vibrated with a growl until it erupted out of his mouth, tickling your lips. The beer on his tongue was strong, but you could also taste the shot of whiskey he had when you first spotted him. You buried your hands in his hair as his clutched at your ass and lower back.

You pulled away only because you needed to breathe and the fact that his fingers had slipped beneath your panties when he groped your ass. People were staring. Some were whispering while others gave cat calls. You grabbed both piles of cash, his hand, and pulled him out the front door. There were a handful of cars in the parking lot and you didn't know which one he had driven. He pulled ahead of you, leading you to a dark corner of the lot where an even darker car waited.

He spun you around and pinned you to the rear panel. You stood there, staring up into his eyes, both of you breathing heavy in anticipation as his hands gripped your hips. You stood on tiptoe, grabbed him by the back of his neck, and pulled him down to your level. He kissed you hard, possessively, covering every inch of your mouth with his tongue. Your body reacted, arching into him, and returning his kisses with your own hunger that surprised even you.

One of his hands drug up your thigh, pushing your skirt over your hips. His hand pressed against your sex, and was pleased to find your panties had grown damp. He slid his fingers back and forth, stroking you through the cotton. The coil in your belly tightened with every stroke, and then suddenly, his hand was gone. You groaned into his mouth, clutching at his shoulders, desperate to feel more of him. He nudged your legs apart with his knee before his hand came back.

It slid into the top of your panties, finding the spot they were before, only there was no barrier this time. One finger slid between your folds, working back and forth almost agonizingly slow. Your hips came off the car in an attempt to direct him where you wanted him. Another finger joined the first, and together, they pushed into you. Your head fell back, exposing your neck, and you moaned low in your throat. His mouth was on your neck, nipping, licking, kissing as his fingers worked back and forth. The heel of his palm found the small bundle of nerves and when you sucked in a breath through your teeth, he worked his fingers harder. The rocking of your hips drove his palm against your clit. Your body worked in tandem with his fingers, you pushed and he pulled, you pulled and he crooked his fingers.

You were panting hard, beads of sweat rolled down your back and between your breasts. You were starting to see bursts of white as the coil grew tighter and tighter. He rest his mouth just below your ear, his voice tight with need, "my name is Sam. I want to hear you say it when you come." And so you did. His name fell from your lips with a shout as the coil snapped. Your body shook as he pumped his fingers. It didn't matter that your orgasm was so intense that it almost hurt, his fingers keep moving, stroking you through it until you thought you were going to pass out.

His mouth found yours, kissing you deeply as he removed his hand. You pulled back and wanted to ask him if he wanted to finish this in the car, your place or his when he growled. His eyes flashed before he spun you around, pressing you against the trunk of the car. "My turn."

It all seemed to happen at once. He kicked your legs apart, pushed your panties to the side, unzipped his jeans, and released his erection. He pressed the tip of his cock against your core and you found yourself whining because he didn't drive into you immediately. He held your hips firm against the car with one hand on the small of your back, the other worked himself back and forth, using your arousal as lubricant. You were just about to ask him to not keep you waiting when he entered you with one thrust of his hips. He filled you so completely, so entirely that it drove the air from your lungs with a grunt. You grabbed at the flat surface of the trunk trying to find something to use for leverage, but it was no use.

He swore crudely, stretching out the word before finally grinding out the last letter with a guttural moan. He pulled away only to snap his hips forward, sending yours into the car. His thrusts were tight and controlled, pushing you harder against the car with every connection of your bodies. You kept trying to push back, to meet his thrusts, but he wasn't having it. He was in charge.

The pressure began to build faster than before and the sound of skin on skin echoing in the darkness was only adding fuel to the fire. Then there was Sam, the noises he was making, the way his hands forced you down, the way his cock twitched; it was almost too much, it was getting hard to breathe.

Another curse fell from his lips as his hips faltered. He reached around and found your clit with his middle and ring finger, and began assaulting it. Your vision went white and static burst in your ears as you came, rougher, harder than any other time. He bore down, grunting out your name as he came.

It took you longer than a moment to recover. Your legs felt like jelly and when he pulled out, you thought for sure you'd collapse, but he still had a hand on your hip. With one hand he was able to put himself back together.

You stood, fixing your skirt and panties, and turned to face him slowly so you didn't fall on your face. You were still panting as you met his eyes. They were still flickering with lust. "You wanna finish the game or go back to my place?"

He fished out a set of keys and unlocked the passenger door. It squeaked loudly as it opened. "I have a different kind of game in mind."


End file.
